


When You're Sick

by HiddenSt0rms



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fever, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenSt0rms/pseuds/HiddenSt0rms
Summary: POV oneshot where you're sick and get taken care of by Robin and Chopper.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	When You're Sick

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: emeto

You stare down at the water in the toilet bowl, the gentle ripples moving with the rhythm of _Sunny_ worsening your nausea. You haven’t been feeling very well since dinner, which you at first attributed to overeating at dinner, but then you'd started to ache all over. You’d thought going to sleep early would make it all go away, but your body had other plans, throwing yourself out of sleep and to the nearest bathroom.

Your skin feels all clammy and sweaty, the edges of your vision are fuzzy. As much as you want to just get it over it with, everyone else is asleep, and the last thing you want is to wake everyone up. But that’s when it hits you, and you let out a violent cough. Nothing comes out, not yet at least, but there’s no going back now. Groaning softly, you close your eyes and lean back on your heels, but that’s when you hear the door opening.

“Oh my..."

Oh yeah. Robin’s on night watch duty. You gently open your eyes to see her looking down at you, worry lacing her expression.

“Y/n, is everything alright?”

You instinctively nod, which is a far contrast to the color draining from your face. You want to say something, but your stomach’s twisting horribly, and you’re sure that more than words would come out if you so much as dared to open your mouth.

But Robin’s intelligent, and she could’ve seen this from a mile away. She says nothing, only blooming hands to turn you towards the bowl and hold your hair back, all the while rubbing your back. It would’ve been comforting if it wasn’t so embarrassing. But the latter thought isn’t enough to hold it back anymore, and you find yourself giving into a pattern of retching and splashing. A hand periodically flushes for you, which you’re thankful for, since being forced to look at the contents of your stomach isn’t helping.

Finally, after a few minutes, your stomach has seemed to finish ridding itself of Sanji’s food (you’d have to keep this a secret from your chef, you wouldn’t want to upset him for wasting the food he’d taken hours to prepare). Robin helps you lean back against the wall, giving the toilet one final flush.

“Do you feel better now?” She asks softly, concern pooled in blue eyes.

You make a so-so gesture. While it’s nice to have gotten it out of your system, your whole body aches like hell now and is succumbing to an uncomfortable chill. “I’m sorry for bothering you.” It’s lame, you know, but you can’t help but feel obligated to say it. No one wants to be a part of something so gross.

“Nonsense,” The archaeologist replies, blooming a hand to feel your forehead. You hate how it immediately gives away how hot you feel. “You’re running a fever.”

You shrug, only watching with tired eyes as Robin stands up. “You stay right there, I’ll get Chopper.”

“No,” You blurt out, face turning redder. “I mean, that’s okay, really. Please don’t wake him up.”

“He’s your doctor. I’m sure he doesn’t mind.” Robin says gently. You figure she has a point, so you simply nod as she heads out of the bathroom.

Not much time passes before Chopper’s rushing in. One hoof is rubbing an eye sleepily, the other carrying his bag, and your heart twinges with regret. You can picture the reindeer sleeping peacefully, wrapped up tightly in a soft blanket, only to be woken up in panic. 

“Robin said you were sick!” 

“It’s really - “ You start, but you’re cut off by Chopper sticking a thermometer in your mouth.

“Shh. Keep that under your tongue.”

You oblige, not that you have a choice, and watch as Chopper prepares some medicine and a glass of water. Once he’s done, he checks the thermometer and frowns. “101.3. When did you start feeling bad?”

“Dinner.” You admit.

“Aw, you should’ve come to me. It's what I'm here for."

“It wasn’t that bad,” You clarify, now giving him a gentle smile. “I promise.”

“That’s fair. Take these, they should help with your nausea and aches.” He hands you two pills and the water. You tentatively take the medicine, taking slow sips to keep your stomach from rebelling again.

“It looks like you have a stomach virus, based on your symptoms. You should take it easy tomorrow. I can get someone to cover your job, don’t worry about it.”

As much as you hate to make the others do your work for you, you can’t help but think a day in bed sounds nice with how badly you're feeling. “Okay.”

“Do you feel like you’re done throwing up for now?” 

“I think so.”

With that, Chopper transforms to heavy point to help you up and out of the bathroom. But when he guides you past your quarters and into the medbay, you frown, confused. “I’m fine in my own bed.”

Chopper looks down understandably. “Yeah, but we don’t want you to get anyone else sick. I’m sorry.”

That reindeer always has good points. He is the doctor, after all. You allow yourself to be helped into bed, which feels a world times better than the cold title of the bathroom floor. Chopper notices you shivering and drapes an extra blanket over you. He places a trash can beside your bed (better safe than sorry) and puts your glass of water on the nightstand. “If you feel up to it, try to finish that. You don’t want to get dehydrated.”

“I will. Thank you, doctor-san.”

“SHUT UP!” A very upset Chopper sings before returning to doctor mode. “See if you can get some sleep for now. Rest is the most important thing when you’re sick, so just take it easy. If you start feeling worse, let me know." 

You expect Chopper to return to his own bed, but he’s making a makeshift bed on the floor. “What kind of doctor would I be to leave a sick patient alone?” He says when he notices your look of confusion. “Don’t worry about me. I should be the one worried, not you.”

You smile down at your doctor, your heart warming rapidly. “You know what? You’re the best doctor in the whole Grand Line.”

“I SAID SHUT UP YOU ASSHOLE!”

  
  



End file.
